The Darkness Within
by purplepagoda
Summary: One dark secret leads to Olivia recounting the first time she ever met the Beast.
1. Son

Down the rabbit hole she goes, farther, and farther with each passing day. The self-loathing only grows stronger with each passing day. The darkness iss closing in on her. The truth will come to the surface eventually. She can't hide the truth forever. She is so close to the edge. Soon she will break. The drinking, and the lying, they are taking her deeper, and deeper into her own head. She knows she can only hide behind the badge for so long. She knows soon the bough will break.

He looks over at his partner, who sits in the passenger's seat of the car. It seems as if she's been relinquishing the driver's seat a lot lately. She stares out the window, walled up in silence. He's given he lots of space, but he knows the things she isn't telling him could fill a book. She grows more distant from him each day. He feels as if any connection they had in the past as partners has been completely severed. He makes the decision that today is the day. The barrier between them has to come down, before it's too late for his partner.

"Olivia," he glances in her direction, speaking her name softly.

She continues to stare out the window in silence, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to even register that he is speaking to her.

"Olivia," he says a little louder, unable to look away from her.

She turns, and meets his glance. Her dark eyes seem darker, and more troubled than usual.

"What?" She answers.

"We've been sitting here for hours I don't think this guy is coming. Do you want to call it a night."

"Not yet," she answers, looking away.

"Olivia," he says firmly, but quietly.

"What?"

"It's time."

"Just a few more minutes," she argues.

"For you to tell me the truth," he answers.

She doesn't look at him, but she stiffens in her seat.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't been yourself lately. I am your partner. I need you to be honest with me."

"About what?" She plays coy.

"Olivia every day I watch you sink deeper, and deeper into a hole that I'm not entirely sure that you can climb out of on your own. It's okay to need help."

"Nick, you don't understand."

"Than make me understand," he insists.

"It's not what you think."

"How can I know that if you won't talk to me? You won't talk to anyone. I don't even think you tell your therapist everything."

"Some things are private."

"The things that are eating at you? Why do you want to keep them all to yourself? It's bigger than you."

"Nick you can't help me."

"Let me try."

"It will change everything."

"Tell me anyway," he argues.

She looks away once again. The silence surrounds them once again. He thinks she's shutdown, and their conversation is over. Several moments pass in silence, and she doesn't offer to make eye contact, or even turn in his direction. Just as he looks away she begins to speak, in a soft tone.

"I have a son."

His eyes widen, and once again he turns in her direction. She doesn't look at him. She watches the sidewalk outside the car. She stares into the darkness. His heart skips a beat, but his brain keeps pace.

"Excuse me?"

"I have a son," she repeats, flatly, with no emotion.

"You never told me that," he points out.

"I never told anyone," she reveals.

"You're being serious right now?" He cocks an eyebrow.

She exhales, and turns towards him. The look on her face says it all. Her lips remain frozen.

"Why haven't you ever mentioned him?"

"I don't like to think about it."

"You said have..."

"Yes," she nods in confirmation.

"How old is she?"

"Seven."

Nick swallows hard, "Where is he?"

"Not here," is all she'll reveal.

"That is a pretty big secret to keep."

"It's only the tip of the iceberg."

"Does Brian know?"

"No one knows."

"Why are you telling me?"

"I can't take it anymore. For the past eight years has been a lie. I am not a liar. I hate lying, but..." she trails off.

"But what?"

"I couldn't face it."

"And now?"

"I don't think I have a choice. I can't hide from it anymore. I feel like my life is spinning out of control. One more thread, and it will all unravel."

"Why isn't he here, with you?"

"I made a mistake."

"Why now?"

"Because he's free."

Nick furrows his brow, "I don't understand. What do you mean, he's free? Your son?"

"No."

"Olivia I am having trouble connecting the dots here."

She looks away from him. She peers out the windshield as they sit in their squad car.

"The shortest distance between two points is a straight line," she tells him.

"I was never very good at geometry."

She makes brief eye contact, and then returns to her window gazing. She sees a figure in a dark hoodie coming up the street.

"There's our guy," she points, abruptly ending their conversation.


	2. Conception Of A Son

It's late, and they're in the squad room, alone writing up their DD5's. As her pen moves she stares at the piece of paper before her. She can feel his eyes on her, trying to rip down her walls. His glance sears right through her. She takes a deep breath, and her head tilts in her direction. Her eyes move upwards, until they fall on his face. His dark eyes meet hers. He exhales, and takes another leap of faith.

"I want to hear the rest of the story," he insists.

"What story?" She tries to shrug it off.

"What you said in the car, earlier."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think that you do. If you didn't you wouldn't have said anything."

"I shouldn't have said anything."

"Don't you ever get sick of living a lie?"

She breaks eye contact, "Every single day."

"If you don't want to do this here..."

"We have hours of paperwork left," she points out.

"We should go for coffee, real coffee," he suggests.

"Yeah."

"And doughnuts."

"Fine," she agrees.

She grabs her jacket, and allows him to lead the way to the elevator. They leave the building. Olivia stops upon reaching the sidewalk. She tosses her partner the keys to the car. The walk to the squad car is silent. He puts the key in the ignition, and waits for the silence to end. He pulls away from the curb, and begins to drive, never asking where they're headed.

"Tell me, the truth this time."

"I have a son," she repeats.

"Why doesn't anyone else know?"

"I wanted to protect him."

"From what?"

"Society, mostly."

"Mostly?"

She stares out the windshield, exhaling. With baited breath she answers, "And me too, maybe."

"Why would you need to protect him from you?"

"It's really complicated."

"How complicated?"

"You should pull over," she responds.

He pulls into the first parking space that he can find. He puts the car into park, and kills the engine. He looks over at him. She turns to look at him. Her facial expression tells him that there is no preparing him for what she's about to say.

"Olivia," he says just above a whisper.

"December thirty first two thousand and five."

"The day he was born?"

She shakes her head, "The day that he was conceived."

"That's the beginning of the story?"

"I went out for drinks after work, somehow I had managed to get off at a decent hour."

"You went to a bar?"

"Everyone I had gone with had other plans, so they left after a while."

"But not you," he baits her.

"The biggest mistake of my life."

"You kept drinking?"

"I was having a pity party, about spending another year of my life alone."

"Liv what are you telling me?"

"It was the first time that I met him."

"Met who?"

"Him," she answers.

"I don't understand."

"I had too much to drink, and I wasn't paying enough attention."

"Olivia what are you saying?"

"He must have followed me home," she explains, breaking eye contact.

"He followed you home?"

"I barely noticed him. He tried to buy me a drink at the bar, and I turned him down. I didn't realize who I was dealing with."

"Olivia..."

She cuts him off, "I managed to get into my apartment. As I was chaining the door someone knocked. I looked out the peephole, and saw him standing in my hallway."

"The guy from the bar?"

"Yeah."

"What happened next?"

"I didn't say anything. I pretended like I wasn't home."

"Then what?" He probes.

"He reached for the door handle. I stepped back, and reached for my gun. He pushed the door open part of the way. When he realized it was just the chain he kicked the door. I drew my weapon."

"You shot him?"

"He flew through the door, and I didn't react quickly enough. He knocked me to the ground. I hit my head, and when I came to..." she trails off.

"You can tell me," he reassures her.

"I was handcuffed to the bed with my own handcuffs. My gun was pointed to my head."

"He threatened to kill you?"

"More than once. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, and lit it. He held the gun with one hand, and I tried to get it away from him. I tried to kick it out of his hands. He put it down, just out of my reach, and he burnt me with the cigarette. I told him I had to be at work the next morning, and that someone would come looking for me," she blinks away tears.

"Olivia you can say it."

"I never told anyone," she reminds him.

"So tell me."

"I can't," she shakes her head.

"You want to protect your son?"

"I can't protect him. No one can. Not if he finds out."

Nicks furrows his brow, "I don't understand."

"Every single day I live a lie. I live with this big black cloud looming over my head. I have to go through each day with a secret that I feel certain will eventually devour me alive, or kill me. I don't know how much more I can take."

"Where is your son?" He switches gears.

"Why does it matter?"

"Please."

"Not with me."

"Olivia stop beating around the bush. Just put your cards on the table," he begs.

"December thirty first two thousand and five was the first time I met ..."


	3. Son Of The Beast

His stomach does a back flip as he allows his partner's words to settle. He swallows hard, as he stares at her. It takes every ounce of strength she has to keep herself from having a break down, right there, in their squad car. She tries to fight off the tears, but the moisture on her cheek reminds her it is futile. A lump forms in Nick's throat. He looks at his partner, and his heart sinks. He does his best not to break down and cry. He reminds himself that he has to stay strong for her. Finally he is able to formulate a coherent thought. He breaks the silence.

"I didn't know he was here in two thousand and five."

"He was."

"Why didn't you mention it? This entire time you never mentioned it."

"I couldn't."

"Why didn't he mention it?"

"He would never admit that kind of guilt."

"I could never understand why he had such a hold on you, from the very beginning. He was a creep of a different species, but he got to you. He got to all of us, but..."

"I thought that I had moved on."

"How could you ever move on?"

She shakes her head, "I saw him last weekend."

"Lewis?"

"Noah," she answers.

"Noah?"

"My son. I was on loan to the FBI. I didn't want anyone to know I was pregnant. I never told anybody. I knew I couldn't keep him."

"But?"

"All I had ever wanted was a child. At the same time I knew how my childhood was. I didn't want that for him. I thought if I could give someone else the child that they always wanted that I could live with the pain. I thought that I would be okay."

"But you're not."

"I made a mistake, a lot of them."

"You regret having him?"

"No," she shakes her head, "Not for a second."

"How can you say that?"

"Because he is the sweetest boy I have ever met in my entire life."

"You regret not keeping him for yourself?"

"Lewis is out there somewhere. What if he finds out about Noah? I won't let him turn my son into a monster."

"Liv you should have told me when we caught Lewis in the park that day. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid to tell anyone."

"Why?"

"My entire life has been a lie for the past seven years. I lied to everyone, including myself," she swallows hard, "I hate feeling weak. I didn't want to admit to anyone that something like that could happen to me. I am supposed to protect other people from things like that," her facial expression twists in pain, "If I had been able to get over my damn pride, and tell the truth he wouldn't have hurt, and killed all of those other women. I am responsible for that."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," she argues.

"He would have left town before we got him."

"I could have spoken up when we collared him in the park."

"Did you think that he wouldn't recognize you?"

"I hoped that he wouldn't."

"You pretended that you didn't recognize him, because you didn't want him to smell fear."

"I wanted to convince him that I was okay, but..." she trails off.

"You weren't."

"I'm not."

"Olivia what do you want to do about it, now?"

She shrugs, "I want to go back in time."

"But you can't."

"I just want my son."

"You can't just go in and swoop him up. You can't take him from the only home he's ever known."

"Don't you think that I know that?"

"With everything else you're dealing with right now I don't think it's a good time."

"Every single day I think about the mistake that I made. Every time I see him I remind him that I love him..." she chokes up.

"Olivia you should have told someone."

"Who? I didn't want to be a victim. I didn't want people to look at me the way that they look at me now."

"When you found him in your apartment I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"It was like a nightmare all over again. Just when I thought that I might be able to get through the day without seeing his face, there he was standing in my living room. I never wanted to be this person. I never wanted to be like her."

"Her? Who are you talking about?"

"Every day I think about how I'm turning into my mother. We made different choices, but it doesn't make us different. She couldn't let go of me, and for most of my life I couldn't understand. I couldn't understand why she wouldn't have made different choices if she really loved me. I made different choices, and I still can't let go. I have a son who... every time I think about him I fall apart."

Nick looks over at his partner, "Is that why you've been drinking?"

"I vowed not to turn out like her. Everyday I struggle just to get through the day, and... I find myself making the same mistakes that she did."

"Maybe it's time that you admit that you need help."

"I go to therapy..."

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"Maybe it's time that you admit to yourself that the truth is too much for you to handle on your own?"

"Why do you think that I'm telling you?"

"You regret giving him up for adoption?"

"I know his parents. I went to college with her. I know that they are good people. I know he has a really good life."

"So why isn't it enough?"

"He looks at me like he doesn't even know me, and it kills me. I tell him that I love him, and that I wanted him," she swallows hard as the tears flow freely down her cheeks, "and I don't think that he believes me."


	4. Her Son

"Olivia I don't know what to tell you."

"How do I fix this? How do I keep him from becoming a monster? How am I supposed to convince a seven year old that the reasons I placed him for adoption had nothing to do with him."

He shakes his head, "He's seven he probably won't understand until he's much older. Even when he does, he isn't going to understand if you lie to him."

She furrows her brow, "What do you mean?"

"It was about him. It was all about him. You loved him, and chose to give birth to him. You knew that you wanted him to have a happy childhood that wasn't weighed down with a ton of emotional baggage he wouldn't understand. Every decision you made was about him. It was for him. I know you, and sometimes I think that you're a little bit of a martyr. Olivia it wasn't a selfish decision on your part, if that's what you think. You gave him the life that you didn't have. Tell him the truth. It was about him. It was for him."

"I think that he believes he did something wrong. He just looks at me with these big sad eyes, and I am afraid that seeing me only confuses him. I'm scared that by being selfish I'm sabotaging him."

"Do you ever just ask him what he thinks?"

"He's quiet. He barely speaks to me."

"What are you really afraid of?"

"That he'll turn into damaged goods, and that it's all my fault."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I don't know how to protect him in a world full of William Lewis's. I don't know how to protect him in a world with just one."

"Where is Noah?"

"Trenton."

"It's late, he's probably asleep."

"I know."

"There is nothing we can do about it tonight."

"I know," she looks away from him. His brown eyes fall upon her face. He sees the anguish in her expression. He thinks about his own children, and how difficult being away from them is. He knows her well enough to know the only thing that she's ever wanted is a child. He feels the wall between them slowly receding.

"Why don't you go home, and get some rest? We're off tomorrow. I'll go with you."

"Okay," she agrees.

* * *

The following day he stands in the backyard of a New Jersey suburb. He watches from afar as Olivia sits at the picnic table talking to a seemingly happy couple. Their expressions of happiness slowly dissipate as the conversation wears on. He can't hear what she's saying, but he knows what she's telling them. He takes a deep breath, as he leans against the pillar of a swing set. He looks forward, and finds a seven year old swinging back, and forth.

"Noah," he whispers.

The little boy's face turns in his direction. He has dark curls, and big bright brown eyes. He looks so much like Olivia. Nick steps forward, and squats next to the swing the boy is on. The seven year old wears a navy blue hoodie, and a pair of jeans.

"Noah, can I ask you something?"

Noah simply nods.

"I know we only met a little while ago, but I was hoping you would talk to me for a minute."

"Okay," he agrees, quietly.

"Are you always this quiet?"

"No."

"Why are you so quiet now?"

"I'm sad," he admits.

"About what?"

He points towards the picnic table, "Her."

"Olivia?"

"Yes," he nods.

"Why?"

"Because."

"You can tell me. I am really good at keeping secrets."

"I don't think I should."

"She said that she thinks you don't believe what she tells you."

"About what?" He tilts his head.

"That she loves you."

He shakes his head, "That's not it."

"Oh?"

"I don't want her to go."

"You don't want her to go?"

"She's sad when she leaves."

"She is?"

"It's because of me?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because she wants me to go with her. That makes me sad. I want to go with her."

"You want to go with her?"

"I miss her."

"I see."

"She's my mom."

"You're not happy here?"

"Most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

"Where's your mom?"

Nick smirks, "At her house."

"Do you miss her when you don't see her for a long time?"

"Yeah," Nick nods.

"Me too. I love her, and so I miss her."

"That's why you're so quiet when she's around? You're sad?"

"She never stays long enough, and she never takes me with her."

"Have you ever asked?"

"No."

"Noah you know that she loves you, and..."

Noah rolls her eyes, "She has told me a million times. She loves me, and she always wanted me. I know that."

"Maybe you should tell her that sometime."

"Detective..."

Nick cuts him off, "You can call me Nick."

"Will you keep her safe?"

"Of course," Nick nods in agreement.


End file.
